


Pasta heals the heart

by SUFSKAM



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany), SKAM (TV) RPF
Genre: Cutesy, Fluff, M/M, Pasta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 04:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18514093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SUFSKAM/pseuds/SUFSKAM
Summary: David and Matteo hang out and they talk about pasta, the stars and the future. Not much but hopefully it's sweet :)





	Pasta heals the heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so I'm James and I wrote this really bad Davenzi FF. This is only the first part though, other bits coming out soon. If you want them.

Matteo closes his eyes and throws some cool water on his face, slicking the excess water over his head. Whipping his newly wet hair back, Matteo blindly grabs a brown fluffy towel from the edge of the sink and rubs his face dry with it before slipping it around his neck in one snake-like movement. He looks in the mirror after opening his sore eyes and smiles. David was going to come over today, but goodness knows when and for how long he’s staying. He reaches out for the lock and handle with his tired arms, wrapping his fingers around the flaky (rusty) metal. With a click the lock turns and Matteo tries to push the door open. It won’t budge. Frowning, he concentrates all of the little energy in his body to his right hand and grunts in frustration when yet again it won’t open. He eventually gives up and uses the right side of body to slump and push against it, cheek squashed against the old wood. It smells like shit but..aha ! The door swings all the way back, scraping against the carpet and banging against the wall, making a dent when the sharp corner prods the white plaster. Matteo tumbles out, a flurry of grey and olive green, swirls of dust from the door floating in the air and falling onto the floor, covering the rug in grey. Haphazardly rising to his feet, his head meets a metal door handle that opens up to Hans’ bedroom. A blunt pain builds into a sharp one and Matteo contracts, grimacing in pain.

“Scheiße,” he curses under his breath, hands massaging his throbbing head.

There’s a clang as the handle drops off and hits the floor in the bathroom, and his neck snaps to the side. Every noise suddenly amplifies and he drops to his knees in pain, hands cupped around his ears to stop noise.

Standing up and walking slowly as if not to audibly brush his feet against the carpet, his eyes search for his earphones, finally finding them tangled in his room. Fingers prod at the green Spotify icon on Matteo’s phone and soon he can sink into his pillow, at peace with the music. His head is still throbbing, and his face makes the odd twitch every now and then, but he’s feeling better. The way that he is sitting in isn’t the most comfortable of positions, but it ensures that he won’t accidentally move his neck and hear the silent rustle of his collar against it. 

Take me to church finishes for the hundredth and Matteo can finally breathe freely again so he tugs the rubbery earpieces out of his ears and throws them to his side, gulping and looking up at the plain white ceiling. He hates that things like this happened to him. Especially since he doesn’t know what is causing him to feel like this, and so often too. Slowly dropping his head down, he swivels to the side and drops his feet to the floor, using his arms to push off of the bed and stand up. There’s still a faint ringing in his ears, but he knows it’ll go soon like it’s gone all those other times. His vision is still adjusting from large bleeding blobs (like paint spiking into water) to sharp, definite shapes. However it only takes a few seconds for these to disappear and he feels stable on his own two feet again, sluggishly walking out of his room. He had only taken 2 steps, maybe 3 when the quiet plodding of his feet against the floor gets drowned out by the loud irritating buzz of the doorbell.Stopping in his tracks, Matteo pauses before he throws the towel from around his neck violently on the floor before running to the door, a whipping sound resonating through the house as it falls to the floor. He takes a deep breath before combing 4 fingers through his half-wet hair and opening the door, nervously peeking at David from behind the door. 

“Hey,” he grins, looking slightly up at Matteo.

“Hey,” replies Matteo, bringing the door back and stepping into the now larger gap.

He looks at David, eyes sparkling with happiness, smile blooming on his face. Matteo watches as David's eyes flicker up and down, making him tremble as he looks at his lips, and losing his mind when he drowns him in his pretty eyes. Silently, he gestures inside and David follows his lead, not breaking eye contact. Even when Matteo lazily closes up the home he can’t seem to take his eyes off of David. David, David, David. The shiny dark hair that looks pretty with his hands laced up in it. His lips that smile at him so dearly, and that go soft and puffy after they kiss. His nose, as cute as a button that he loves to nuzzle, just to make David feel warm. His everything, that Matteo treasures so much. The gap between them seems to close, and Matteo feels his eyelids droop of euphoria before he’s even touched David. At first it's a shock for Matteo when David hooks his hand around his neck and pulls it his way, but he melts under his lips, sliding his own small, paralyzed hands around David. They're soft and gentle with each other, and as slow as possible so that they can be with each other longer. Matteo is ok with that. The two hands he moved around David’s neck cup his face gently and Matteo purrs at the warmness of his cheeks, slowly pressing his lips back on David's so they brush before interlocking. It's nice like this. Matteo likes feeling David. He likes making sure he's there. He can feel David doing this thing where he grins and moves his face upwards, sucking on Matteo's top lip so gently that when he pulls away their lips stick together. And he keeps coming back. They sigh into the kiss, enjoying the sugary taste of each other’s lips. Matteo is dying, his body is filled with happiness from the sweetness of David’s movements, his lower half is shaking and his feet seem to soar off of the ground.  Audibly shuffling away from the door, he brings David even closer, messily slipping his fingers through his, using his thumb to stroke a heart on the back of his hand. Then he licks careful, tiny licks that wet David’s lips slightly. David grins and connects with Matteo one last time before flopping onto his shoulder, heart beating so fast he’s scared Matteo can feel it through the fabric. They laugh airily, burying their faces into the other’s clothes.

“I missed you,” Matteo comments after a while, his tranquil voice muffled by David's hoodie.

David uses his free hand to claw around Matteo’s neck, bringing his head up and resting his forehead on his, slowly moving his head so the tip of his nose brushes Matteo’s.

“I missed you too, Luigi,” he whispers, grinning like an idiot.

The intimacy between them makes Matteo forget his own name. It’s not blood rushing through his body, it’s David.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asks, still tracing his fingers over the back of David’s hand.

"Why not?"


End file.
